In The Arms Of An Angel
by FaLsE X ImPuLsE
Summary: Hermione’s life isn’t as everyone thinks. Her parents abuse her, both mentally and physically and she is suicidal. But one certain Slytherin will change her life forever. HGDM. I suck as summaries. Better than sounds. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**_In The Arms Of An Angel_  
  
Disclaimer:**  
  
I only own the unfamiliar things.  
  
**Authors Note:**   
  
Please know that this story is a dark one. It involves lots of violence and language.   
  
Please Review if you want more.  
  
Also, you may notice this story from somewhere before. It was written by me on my other PEN name, but everything got whipped out so I have to restore it.   
  
****

**Chapter 1**

****  
  
It was one of the stormiest nights of the year. Wind blew rough, lighting flashed dangerously, thunder roared, and rain fell from the sky, harder than ever before. The streets were pitch black, due to the black out. Each and every house, that was normally light, children running inside and outside all night long, were dark and empty. One house in particular, was always dark and empty. No matter what the day was. The neighbors never talked to them, fearing of them. Some people say they were witches, and studied black magic, if they only knew the half of it.  
  
On the second story, middle window, a girl was staring outside. Her curtains were drawn back, and she stared out, watching the storm. Her dark brown locks fell around her shoulders, and her once bright amber eyes were emotionless, and dull. This girl was the one, Hermione Granger. She was now 16 years old, and lived on 45 Rowling Rd. It was a fairly large neighborhood, and very sociable. Only, Hermione wasn't a part in this world. Ever since last year, Hermione's father started drinking. Then, the drinking turned into abuse. Nobody knew about her father's abuse, and Hermione kept it that way. No matter how hard she tried, it never got better. And her mother wasn't any help.  
  
She was staring straight, not even blinking when lighting flashed through the sky. A couple nights ago, her mother told her, Hermione, she was barley alive. Only the outside of once was. And that is how Hermione felt. Just something left behind empty, and soulless. Like she was just an illusion.   
  
Pushing herself away from the window, Hermione made her way to her bathroom. When she got in, she locked the door and stepped up to the mirror above her sink. Each hand was on either side of the white porcelain sink. She didn't dare look in the mirror, afraid of what was really the reality. She sighed, and slowly lifted up her head, and opened her eyes. The left side of her face was bruised, and her top lip was cut. Staring back at herself, she tried hard to remember how it had gotten there. She had no memory of it. But, she was knocked out for 3 hours.  
  
Lifting her hand up, she touched the bruise lightly, letting the tips of her fingers feel it out. Removing her hand from her face, she stared at it. Anger rushed through her as she thought about her father beating her and her mother, for his sick pleasure. Her hand tightened into a fist, and she let out an angered cry and slammed her fist into the mirror. It shattered, blood pouring from the numerous cuts on her hand.  
  
Falling onto the floor, she cried. Letting everything she once held in out. A scream filled the room, and echoed. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. It hurt so badly, and all she wanted was to get rid of it all; Her pain, parents and life. Lifting her head up, she gazed around the bathroom. That was it. Getting rid of her pain. Standing up, grabbing the sink for support, she walked out of her bathroom and into her bedroom. Her hand was still bloody and droplets fell onto her white floor. She wrenched open her desk drawer and pulled out her blade.   
  
She grabbed her journal, a quill, and ink and sat down on her floor, in front of her bed. She leaned her back against the end, and grabbed her lighter and candles from underneath her bed. Putting three in front of her, she lighted them. The small blaze of fire was the only light now, since the moon was now covered.   
  
Dipping her quill in the inkbottle she opened her journal to a fresh page. Sighing deeply, she began to write:  
  
_Feelings of sadness,  
  
that won't go away,  
  
Each and every hour,  
  
Each and every day.  
  
Hate worthless feelings,  
  
that well up inside.  
  
Dare not speak them,  
  
I don't yet confide.  
  
My day starts with crying,  
  
my night ends so too.  
  
Would somebody tell me,  
  
what I should do?  
  
It's happiness I seek,  
  
but still have not found.  
  
Just want to be free,  
  
but feel like I'm bound.  
  
Put on that smile,  
  
for everyone to see,  
  
so they will be comfortable,  
  
being around me.  
  
Can't give up living,  
  
but feel like I'm dying.  
  
Too much to live for,  
  
so why am I crying?  
_  
Closing her journal, she felt tears roll down her face. Putting her journal in a shoebox, with her quill and ink she pushed it under her bed. Blowing out each candle, she too put them back under her bed and stood up. Looking down at her hand, she noticed it wasn't bleeding anymore, but starting to dry. When she noticed the power was on, quickly, she walked into the bathroom and turned on her shower. Warm water poured from the nozzle above, and she undressed. Bruised covered her body, and she hated looking at them. When she stepped into the shower, the cuts on her hand begun to bleed again and redness flowed down her hand, touched the shower floor and got swallowed up by the drain.  
  
Leaning on the wall, she put her head in her hands, and cried again. Wondering how long she could put up the act she did when she went to Hogwarts. To everyone she was happy, and loved being a bookworm. But she wasn't really a bookworm. She was hiding. It hurt her even worse, that she was not able to tell her best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley what was going on, but she didn't speak a word. She pushed down the sadness and placed a mask on. The mask she wore showed no emotion, at least the emotion she really felt.  
  
Sliding down the wall, she let the warm water pour on her, not caring it was Turing colder. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed in deep. After a few minutes, she stood up and turned off the water, wrapping herself in a towel. When she walked back into her bedroom, she noticed the blade still on the floor. Walking over, she picked it up and put it in her top drawer.  
  
Dressing into a large shirt and boxers, she got into bed, and stared out the window. The storm was lighting up a little, and the streetlights were on. So was the power in the other houses. Her eyelids fluttered, and she finally shut them, falling into a deep sleep...


	2. Chapter 2

**_In The Arms Of An Angel_**  
  
**Disclaimer:  
**  
I only own the unfamiliar things.  
  
**Authors Note:**   
  
Please know that this story is a dark one. It involves lots of violence and language.   
  
Please Review if you want more.  
  
Also, you may notice this story from somewhere before. It was written by me on my other PEN name, but everything got whipped out so I have to restore it.   
  
**Chapter 2**

****   
  
The sun was starting to set, and Hermione was sitting on the roof, watching the families come home, greet their wife's and children happily and go inside for a family meal. The wind blew, blowing her hair slightly. It was getting colder and for some reason she didn't feel it at all. Gripping her shoe tops, she watched the little girl next door hugging her father and both laughing. A sad smile formed on her lips, and she looked up at the sky. Fingers of gold, pink and blue streaked across the sky. She wished she could have that kind of relationship with her father, but Hermione knew it would never happen.  
  
The sound of car doors shutting below made her jump up. Her parents where home from Charlie's bar. Panic flowed through Hermione as she hurried inside her window, and closed it tightly. Footsteps thundered up the steps, and something slammed into the wall. They were drunk. Running to her door, she locked it and stepped into her bathroom. Her father forced her mother to drink, and one time she noticed that he always slipped a drug into her drink, making her as worse as he is. Someone gripped the doorknob to her room and tried to open the door. She jumped into the shower and sat down in the corner.   
  
"YOU LITTLE WITCH YOU BETTER OPEN THIS DOOR!" Her father yelled and slammed his fist against the door. Hermione closed her eyes and pressed herself against the corner of the shower, muttering 'please go away' and breathing heavily. But it was no use. She heard her door being kicked open, and him walking around the room. "She isn't here." He snarled, and her mother hiccupped. "Did you try her bathroom?" Cursing her mother. Hermione felt her father smile cruelly. "No dear, but thanks"   
  
The bathroom door burst open, and her father stood there, a green bottle in his hand and a sick smile on his face. Tears threatened to pour down her face, but she didn't want to give him the pleasure. "Well, Well, Well look what I found." He stepped up to the shower and reached in, grabbing Hermione by her arm. Yanking hard, she tumbled out of the shower and landed on the floor. "You weren't hiding from me now where you?" She shook her head and kept her eyes on the titled floor. He took a swig of his bottle and she smelled hard liquor in the air.   
  
"Now, what did I tell you to do today, _dear_?" He spat dear out like it was bad taste in his mouth. Hermione had no idea what he was talking about, so she shrugged. "Stand up." Scrambling to her feet, Hermione looked up and stared into her father's eyes. He raised his hand, and stuck her across the face. She slipped and her head hit the side of her sink, making her vision go hazy. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU TO DO TODAY?!" He roared, and Hermione blinked, trying to focus but failed. "I. Don't. Know. You. Didn't. Tell. Me. To. Do. Anything. Sir." She said in-between breaths, and he kicked her side, making her cough. "Don't lie to me filthy witch!" When he kicked her again, she felt a rib crack. Without saying another word, he turned and felt her laying there, blood trickling out of the side of her mouth, and bruised all over her body. Getting up shakily, Hermione crawled out of the bathroom and into her room, wincing because of the pain.  
  
When she reached her bed, she grabbed her shoebox and move to the front of her bed. She opened the lid, and took out a special bone repair potion and drank it. It was the last one she had left. Hermione made them before she left school, in case. Feeling her bone return to normal, she took out her journal, quill and ink bottle. Her whole body was sore, but she knew writing would keep her sane...at least for now.   
  
Opening her inkbottle, she dipped her quill in and turned to a fresh page:  
  
_She cuts just for the fun of it,  
  
to watch the blood pour out.  
  
That stinging pain of the steal,  
  
it takes away the doubt.  
  
She knows that with each cut she makes  
  
Time ticks closer to her death.  
  
Her soul has died a while ago,  
  
there's nothing really left.  
  
No one knows the pain she feels,  
  
She keeps it deep inside.  
  
She cuts to release the terrible secret;  
  
the blood proves she's alive.  
  
She's not really living in this life,  
  
just a body moving along.  
  
Maybe if someone had come and saved her  
  
She wouldn't already be gone  
_  
She stopped writing, and thought about this. Something to relive the pain...to get rid of it all. Laying her stuff down, she crawled over to her dresser, and opened the top drawer. She took the dagger out, and sat back down. She set the dagger on the lifeline in her wrist, and stared at it. Closing her eyes, she pressed down, when something smacked her in the head. Snapping her eyes open, she saw a large snowy owl perched on her bedpost, hooting angrily as if knowing what she was about to do. Laying the dagger down, she untied the letter from the owl's leg and smiled. Harry.  
  
Opening the parchment, she read:  
  
_Dearest Mione,   
  
Hey from The Burrow! I hope your summer is great. We all wish you could have come; it's not the same without you Hermione! I hope Hedwig gets to you in time cause we are going to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies tomorrow. Send her back to tell us if you are going too. We really can't wait to see you!  
  
Love always,  
  
Harry and the Weasley's.  
_  
Tears were in her eyes when she read this. Laying the letter down, she grabbed parchment and dipped her quill back into the ink, giving them an answer.  
  
_Harry & The Weasley's,  
  
I wish I could be there to! But my aunt is staying longer than we all thought. I will be in Diagon Alley tomorrow. Wait for me by the Leaky Cauldron. Tell everyone I said hey.  
  
Love From,  
  
Hermione.  
_  
She rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. She nipped Hermione lovingly and flew out the window. Getting up off the floor, Hermione went into her bathroom to clean up, and figure out to hid the bruises for tomorrow.... 


End file.
